Breathe You In
by DancingintheRain131
Summary: Eames forges into Arthur in a dream to get Ariadne to admit her feelings for Arthur. What happens when the real Arthur decides to show up?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I've had this idea for a while, and I am FINALLY getting it posted. Is it a one-shot or a multi-chapter story? Guess you'll have to read and see ;).

**Chapter One:**

Eames knew they thought they were being discreet, but honestly, he was a _forger._ It was his job to know people, and he was the best at what he did. If they thought they were fooling him, they were sadly mistaken.

And frankly, if they really wanted to hide it, they would try-no, could keep it that way. But Eames knew they were both growing wearing of this on-going game of cat and mouse. Now they just had to see who would make the first move. Unfortunately, Eames knew, with these two, they would take something akin to a grandmother walking a marathon; _too_ slow, in his opinion. And he'll be damned if he doesn't speed up the process _just _a bit.

The team (minus Cobb) was in the middle of another project. The Mark: Cecille Barton. Her husband, owner of one of the world's largest oil companies, suspected that she was being unfaithful and was paying top dollar to find out the truth. The plan was simple: a two-layer dream with a safe on the second level containing Cecille's most hidden secrets. If she was having an affair, the information would definitely be in the safe.

The plan was so simple, in fact, that there was no reason for Ariadne to go under. Her job was to build the layout, teach the designs to the team, and make sure nothing happened to their bodies. Eames couldn't help but notice the look of relief Arthur had when he realized this.

Currently, Arthur was taking notes, his pen gliding smoothly across the paper, eyes never leaving the open file on his desk. As predicted, though, Arthur's eyes slyly glanced at Ariadne. When he found Eames looking at him, he cleared his throat and glued his eyes back to the file, looking flustered at the fact that Eames had caught him.

The forger grinned, focusing once more on his own work.

The day passed rather quickly with little more than a few words spoken between any team members. Arthur, usually the last one to leave, had packed up by 7 PM.

"Arthur, did you finally find something other to do than work? Maybe you found a lady friend?" Eames joked.

Eames saw Ariadne stiffen at his words, and immediately regretted them. Arthur shot him a dirty look and held it a few seconds before rolling his eyes and replying:

"As much as I hate to disappoint you," he said sarcastically, "I'm only leaving early because I have a late appointment with the client."

"And here I thought you had found someone more boring than you," Eames pouted.

Arthur just shook his head, walking towards the warehouse door. He stopped at Ariadne's desk, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't work yourself too hard," he said quietly.

She gave him a small smile. "No promises."

He gave her a gentle smile in return, his hand lingering on her shoulder longer than it normally did. He turned around and walked out the door. The smile on Ariadne's face was long gone; a quiet ache of sadness clouded her features. Before Eames could discern any more of the emotions on her face, her back was to him and she began placing the final touches on her models.

Silence blanketed the warehouse once more. They only noise was the tinkering of Yusuf and his beakers. He too left, and before they knew it, Eames and Ariadne were the only ones there.

"Well, I don't know about you, darling, but I am absolutely spent," Eames said, stretching his arms above his head. "I think it's time to call it a day."

"I just need to finish a few more things up," Ariadne said. When she saw his look of disbelief, she held up her hands in defeat. "I promise, just a few quick details, and then I'll leave."

He gave her a suspicious look, but nodded in consent. He left her to her work, and walked the four blocks to his car. It was only when he started the car that he realized he had forgotten his cell phone on his desk.

"Damn it!" he growled.

He trudged his way back to the warehouse and through the door, glancing around when he realized Ariadne wasn't at her work station.

"Ariadne?" he called, his voice ringing throughout the empty room.

He walked over to his desk and picked up his cell phone. It wasn't until he turned around that he noticed the door that lead to the back room was ajar. He quietly stepped over to the door, peeking through the crack. Ariadne was laying on one of the lawn chairs, a needle in her wrist connecting to the PASIV machine. Her breathing was slow, and Eames realized that she had waited until everyone had left to go to sleep- and Eames had a feeling she wasn't working on the design layout for the job.

An idea slowly started to form in Eames' mind as he watched the architect sleep. An idea that, if worked, would finally give Ariadne and Arthur the push they needed. If it failed, though…Eames suppressed a shudder. Ariadne might be small, but she was 110 pounds of fury when she needed to be. Was he willing to take the risk?

Eames grinned, now determined, and knew what he had to do. He made his way over to another lawn chair, grabbing a needle and pushing it into his wrist. It wasn't long before he felt the sedative kick in, and before he knew it, his eyes were fluttering closed.

**A/N:** No, I wouldn't be that cruel. This is a multi-chapter fic! I have almost all the chapters written, I just have to tweak a few things here. The more you review, the quicker I post the next chapter.. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: And here is the second chapter! I hope you guys enjoy :)

**Chapter Two: **

Eames found himself standing in a park and quickly darted behind a tree. He looked around, and some of his breath escaped him.

There was a reason Cobb had picked her. She truly was the best architect he had ever met. Pristine glass buildings were surrounding the park, but in a way that wasn't threatening, but in a homely way. Rain slid down the glass, leaving a wet trail in its wake. Beautiful roses of every color were in bloom in some gardens- though most of them were a deep red. The gardens surrounded a small pond with a fountain in the middle. The crystal surface would have been as smooth as glass, Eames was sure, had soft raindrops not been falling. Despite the rain, two swans, white as snow, were in the middle of the bond, their necks gently intertwined, forming a heart.

Eames rolled his eyes. Could she have _been_ any more obvious?

He glanced around, making sure that Ariadne was nowhere in sight, and cautiously stepped out of his hiding place. He needed to get to a mirror, and fast. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a quaint diner. He casually walked in, sent a flirtatious smile to the waitress behind the bar (Arthur would kill him if he knew he was flirting with Ariadne's subconscious), and made his way into the men's restroom. A quick look around reassured him that no one else was in there. Eames looked at the mirror in front of him and focused.

He thought of Arthur's impeccable three-piece suits, his cool demeanor, his slicked back hair. Slowly but surely the reflection started to change. Eames's short, dirty blonde hair darkened to the color of coffee beans and pulled itself back, as if held back by an invisible line. His blazer and jeans converted into an immaculate charcoal suit, and he held back the smirk that was threatening to appear on his face. He gave himself a quick grin.

"Not bad," he said, looking at a side view, mentally giving himself a pat on the back.

Hastily, Eames walked out of the diner and back into the rain. He went back into the park, hoping to spot Ariadne. The rain continued to lightly fall, making Eames suit damp and chill.

"How the bloody hell does he wear these things all the time?" Eames mumbled under his breath.

After wandering aimlessly in the park for what felt like hours, Eames finally saw a speck of red around a woman's neck on a park bench at the top of a hill. At a closer look, he knew it was Ariadne's signature scarf wrapped around her neck, as usual.

Some of the relief that Eames felt at finally finding the architect stopped in its track, only for surprise to take its place. Ariadne, he noticed, wasn't alone. At a closer look, he saw that a man was sitting beside her, their fingers linked together. Eames look even closer still, and realized that he was looking at a projection. Not just any projection, but a projection of _Arthur._

"Oh," Eames chuckled. _This_ would be interesting.

The sadness Eames had seen on her face was nowhere to be found. Eames heard her laugh quietly, a pretty flush gracing her cheeks and neck. Ariadne looked happier that he had seen her in a long time. Unfortunately, as they both knew, dreams didn't last forever. Eventually you had to wake up.

He made his way up the hill until he was standing a mere foot from the couple. When Ariadne finally took notice of him, she gasped in surprise, her eyes widening. She stood up quickly, making her way over to him.

"Care to explain?" Eames asked, a small smirk on his face, his eyebrow raised.

Ariadne opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, only to snap it shut again when no words would come out. Her cheeks, which normally had a pink tinge to them, were now a flaming red.

"I-um..," she stammered.

**A/N:** The swans were terribly cliché, I know, but I couldn't help it-I just get so caught up in this couple :). And if you couldn't tell how much I absolute *love* rain from this chapter, I'll tell you now. I love, love, love rain. I know it's a bit short, but this is more of a filler chapter so things can start moving along. Reviews are love!

**A/N 2**: Just to clear things up: Eames is forged into Arthur, and even though it says that Eames is talking at the end, Ariadne thinks it's Arthur. Sorry if I confused anyone!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: OH MY GEEZ. I nearly had a heart attack when I realized I had forgotten to put the disclaimer on the two previous chapters. Sooo without further ado..

Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me, unfortunately. But Christopher Nolan, I could kiss you for thinking of it! :)

Chapter Three:

Arthur wearily ran his hand across his face, making his way to his car. He was tired and irritable; the meeting with their client had taken too long, in his opinion. They were just supposed to go over everything in general, to make sure that they had covered all of the loose ends. Instead, the client had made Arthur go over every single detail, down to what they would make the weather like. Arthur's job was tedious enough; he didn't need their client telling him whether to make it spring or fall on top of everything else he had to do.

Climbing into his car, he let his thoughts drift away from the job and onto Ariadne. _Ariadne. _This girl, _woman_, he mentally corrected himself, was both a blessing and a curse. She was beautiful, smart, and creative; her imagination was endless. If they were in any other situation, he would waste no time in claiming her as his. But in the field they were in, all it took was one slip-up and there was a possibility that you would never wake up.

Arthur sighed, speeding along the streets. He knew she was waiting for him to make a move, but didn't she understand the pressure he was under? He wanted her so badly, but would it be worth it in the end? Though he kept telling himself that no, they would not end up like Cobb and Mal, there was always that risk. Was he willing to put her through that?

So he had to choose between protecting her and loving her. Arthur shook his head. Why couldn't he do both? But he had asked himself this question a million different ways, and they had all had the same answer. If she ever got hurt, or worse, got stuck in Limbo, because of him and her association with him, he would never forgive himself.

His mind still turning, he parked a couple of blocks away from the warehouse, as always, when he noticed something strange: Eames's car was still there. The forger was _always_ gone by mid-afternoon, and it was nearing 10:00. Now suspicious, Arthur quickened his pace, only to find Ariadne's and Eames's workstations both empty when he walked through the door, Confused, he did another sweep of the room, once again finding the room empty, though their things were still there.

Arthur, figuring it out, walked into the back room to find that his guesses were correct (as they usually were). Both Ariadne and Eames were hooked up the PASIV machine, their breathing even. Arthur quietly walked over to Ariadne and sat down on the lawn chair she was occupying. He watched a strand of her flutter over her mouth. Knowing he shouldn't, but unable to resist this small gesture, he reached out to tuck it behind her ear, marveling at how soft her skin was.

He mentally scolded himself, knowing that this was not at all appropriate, but allowing himself this one time to give into his urges.

_I wonder what they're doing,_ Arthur thought, his mind starting to imagine the two of them standing and declaring their love for each other.

He pushed the idea back, knowing that whatever they were doing was strictly business. Yet, he couldn't help the streak of jealousy that surged through him.

The temptation was almost unbearable. His resolve crumbling, Arthur quickly slipped onto the lawn chair besides Ariadne's, linking his fingers through hers, hoping that when they woke up, she would see even just a glimmer of how he felt about her. He could feel the drug coursing through his veins, and Arthur slipped into the dream that would prove to be one hell of a ride.

A/N 2: I know it's another short one, but this is the last filler chapter, I PROMISE! Next chapter starts by picking up where chapter two left off. Reviews are love, as always! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I know it's late! Don't hate me! :(

Disclaimer: Still don't own it..sad day.

Chapter Four:

"I-um…" she stammered.

Ariadne gaped at the point man standing before her, eyes wide and mouth open in a surprised "O." As usual, Arthur's face displayed no emotion, except for his eyebrow being raised. His eyes were crinkled around the edges, almost as if he was laughing at her. Great. As if the situation wasn't bad enough, he thought that her having a projection of him was _funny_.

"I can explain," she said.

His eyebrow rose even further, and she felt herself getting annoyed; she hated when he did that. It made her feel like he doubted what she was saying. Though, she supposed, he did have reason to doubt her now.

Ariadne led Arthur to another park bench under a tree to get a little projection from the rain that was now pouring. She steered clear of where projection Arthur sat, which proved to be a good idea. Projection Arthur was not shooting not so subtle glares in the direction where she and Arthur sat.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

Arthur's face contorted into one of surprised before his mask was back in place.

"Sorry?" he asked. "What for?"

"You weren't supposed to see this," Ariadne mumbled, her cheeks growing red once more.

The corners of Arthur's lips pulled up into a half smile. Ariadne mentally sighed. It was never a full smile with him, no matter how hard she tried.

They sat in silence, the rain having lightened to a drizzle.

"I'm surprised," Ariadne commented after a few minutes of silence.

Arthur glanced in her direction, silently encouraging her to continue.

"You've barely talked. You haven't said anything on how dangerous what I'm doing is. You haven't even complained that your suit is getting wet," she explained.

"A little rain isn't anything," he murmured.

She continued on, acting like she hadn't heard him.

"I know what I'm doing isn't safe, but what else did you expect me to do? Every time I feel like I should tell you how I feel, there's an invisible wall around you that goes up. I know our jobs are dangerous enough without our feelings getting in the way. This was the only way I could expel some of my feelings for you without endangering you or me in the process," she rambled.

"Ariadne," he said. "Can I-"

"I was only trying to keep you safe. I care about you more than anyone, and I can't imagine ending up like Cobb and Mal. Can't you understand that?" she asked quietly.

Ariadne looked anywhere but his face, at the sky, at the trees, at the rain. When she felt the familiar weight of his hand on her shoulder, she finally looked at him.

"Now if you can just tell Arthur that, I'm pretty sure he'll go for it," Arthur said.

"Wait, why are you talking about yourself in third person? Why-" Ariadne broke off.

Arthur sent her a cheeky grin, a chuckle escaping him.

Ariadne pushed off of the park bench, shock etched across her face as the truth of the situation finally dawned on her.

"Eames?" she gasped.

"In the flesh! Well, not literally," Eames joked, pulling at the skin on his arm.

Ariadne stared, unable to process what was going on.

"I knew you liked Arthur! Darling, I told you, I'm the best there is. Nothing gets by me," Eames stated.

"I can't believe you," she spat through gritted teeth.

"Oh, come on darling, don't be mad. I was only trying to help. Don't you feel better now that you've finally admitted you like our favorite point man?" Eames asked.

"No," she snapped, though she couldn't help the small grin that escaped her angry façade.

"Ah, I knew you couldn't stay mad at me," he said.

"I'm still mad," Ariadne said. "What exactly were you planning on doing, Eames?"

"To be honest, I really didn't get past this," he laughed.

"Change back. It's starting to creep me out," Ariadne said.

"You sure you don't want me to stay like this? Maybe get in some practice?" Eames said, puckering his lips.

"Eames," Ariadne warned, her voice sharp.

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "No need to get your bloody knickers in a twist."

Ariadne stood, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for Eames to change back into his own form. Before he could do anything, though, a very familiar figure approached them from behind.

"Might I ask just what the _hell_ is going on here?" Arthur inquired, his eyes livid.

Ariadne looked from the real Arthur, to Eames as Arthur, and finally to her projection of Arthur, wondering if this day could possibly get _any _worse.

A/N 2: 3 Arthur's? I'd be in heaven! So what did you think? Terrible? Amazing? Reviews are loveee!

A/N 3: Last author's note, I swear. You'll actually like this one. Fall break for my school is this week so I should have this story finished this weekend! Stay in tune to see what happens nexttt!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I know I know I know I know I know. I shouldn't make promises I can't keep. I was supposed to have this done last Thursday, and it's now Monday. So I'm four days late. And you probably hate me. But please don't stop reading because I'm late. I do have something that might make up for my tardiness..I was planning on this being the second to last chapter, but I'm expanding the story four or five more chapters. Make up for my lateness a just little bit?

Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own it.

Chapter Five:

Arthur's eyes went back and forth between Eames forged as Arthur and Ariadne, his eyes blazing. Ariadne looked like she could melt into the ground from embarrassment and guilt, and Eames just looked amused. The tension grew, and before Eames or Ariadne could say anything, Arthur's gaze fell on the projection of himself. Confusion etched across his features, Arthur turned back to the two of them for an explanation. Before he could again ask what was going on, Ariadne broke into a sprint, running away from the three Arthur's. Arthur turned to follow her, but Eames grabbed a hold of his arm before he could get any further.

"It's no use," Eames said, shaking his head. "You'll never find her in this maze. You'll get lost trying."

Arthur's eyes drifted to the city, and he knew Eames was right. If Ariadne didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be found. Even so, he wasn't going to admit that, especially to Eames. He wrenched his arms out of Eames's grasp.

"Change back," Arthur spat. "It's bad enough having to see him," he said, pointing to the projection.

Eames said nothing, closing his eyes in concentration. Seconds later, his dirty blonde hair was back, along with a goofy grin.

"What the hell were you thinking, Eames?" Arthur snapped, glaring at the forger.

"I was thinking," Eames drawled, "that you two obviously have a thing for each other, and I just wanted to put some effort into this relationship."

"This relationship? There is no relationship. There will never _be_ a relationship. Even if there was a chance for one, which there's not, no thanks would go to you," Arthur said, still glaring at him.

"Why can't you just accept that you like her and want to be with her?" Eames asked, growing quiet.

"You know why," Arthur said, just as quietly.

There was silence. The rain fell harder, but neither of them attempted to move. The projection stood up and walked away, ignoring Eames and Arthur completely.

"You won't turn out like them, you know," Eames said softly.

"You don't know that," Arthur countered, not even having to ask who he was talking about.

"No, but I know you. You're too careful. They lost sight of the lines that separated dreams from reality. You would never let that happen," Eames explained.

Arthur was silent, and Eames continued.

"All I was doing was trying to reassure Ariadne that you do have feelings for her, and to make sure that she didn't move on so that you could actually make a move. It's not like I was trying to come onto her or anything like that."

At this last statement, Arthur turned away from Eames and muttered something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry, dear, what was that?" Eames asked, cupping his hand around his ear, his eyes lighting up.

"It sure looked like it!" Arthur snapped.

Eames laughed loudly, rubbing his hands together as his facial expression turned to one of glee.

"Oh, this is priceless! I never thought I would live to see the day that you, Arthur White, stick-in-the-mud point man, would be jealous. Of me!" Eames exclaimed.

"I'm not jealous," Arthur said tersely.

Eames only chuckled. "Darling, if I wanted to make a move on our dear little architect, I would have a long time ago."

Arthur looked up sharply, his glare deepening the longer he gazed at the forger.

Eames raised an eyebrow, a look of annoyance on his face. "Please. You had an unspoken claim on her the minute she walked through the warehouse door. I wasn't touching her. And besides, I never felt that way about her. She's like a little sister to me."

Arthur didn't say anything, but Eames saw the relief that washed across his face.

Arthur sighed. "I really fucked things up this time, didn't I?" he asked, rubbing his hands over his face.

"You didn't mess things up _that_ badly. You're just making her wait longer than she wants to. But it's not too late," Eames reminded him.

"I guess you're right," Arthur murmured, turning suddenly to look at the city for any sign of Ariadne.

Eames gasped mockingly. "I'm right?"

"Don't get used to it," Arthur grumbled, though a grudging smile was starting to form. He made a mental note to himself to never to say those words to Eames ever again.

Eames gaped at him. "Let me get this straight. In one day, in the span of less than an hour, I have made you jealous, gotten to you admit that I, of all people, was right, AND I got you to smile. Ladies and gentlemen, it truly is a day for miracles!" Eames shouted, holding his arms out wide open as if speaking to an audience.

Arthur merely rolled his eyes. He pulled out his gun and indicating for Eames to do the same.

"I wonder why she hasn't woken herself up yet," Arthur commented.

"I was wondering the same thing," Eames said, gazing around at the city.

"Do you want to go first?" Arthur asked, motioning to Eames's gun and cocking his own.

"The pleasure is all mine," Eames said, grinning at him.

Eames put his gun to his temple. Just when he was about to pull the trigger, the ground began to shake, and he ended up shooting a tree instead.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Eames asked.

"She's waking up," Arthur said, pointing to the large cracks appearing in the ground and the buildings beginning to crumble.

"Well, there's no use wasting a perfectly good bullet," Eames said, pocketing his gun.

Arthur looked at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious. We're in a dream. You could dream up another bullet in a heartbeat."

Eames just laughed. "See you on the other side!" he said, jumping into a deep crack.

Arthur took one last look around before jumping in after him.

AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne ran from Eames and Arthur, not stopping until she knew she had gone through too many twists and turns for them to keep up.

She jogged into one of the tallest buildings, sitting down on a bench only to catch her breath. The minute she sat down, a million thoughts crept into her mind.

_I'll never be able to face him again. I'm going to kill Eames. How am I supposed to explain this? Part of it wasn't even my fault! Damn it, Eames. I really am going to kill you, and not just in a dream. _

And on and on and on. She could never face Arthur again. That much was obvious. She would have to leave, go somewhere far away where he could never find her, even with his resources.

She nodded to herself. She would leave to protect herself, but more importantly, to protect Arthur.

She rose to her feet, knowing she had to end the dream before they had a chance to, and before Arthur had the chance to hold her back.

Ariadne pushed through a side door, running up the stairs to the roof. Barely able to see over the edge of the building, she looked to the park to see if she could see either man. She could. As if sensing her gaze, Arthur turned toward the buildings. She ducked down, her heart pounding. _The effect he had on her…_

Ariadne took a deep breath, standing up straight and climbing to the edge of the building. She looked up, the raindrops pelting her mercilessly. She looked down, and her vision swayed. She never had been good with heights..

Before she could lose her courage, she jumped, Arthur's face being the last thing she saw before she hit the ground.

A/N 2: Do you like it? Love it? Want some more of it? Reviews are love!

A/N 3: I know you're super peeved and probably aren't reading all of these, but if you are, did any of you notice that I gave Arthur a last name? That, my friends, is referring to my other story I'm working on right now where the last name is very, very important. Kudos to those of you that caught it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: So…I'm back. What's it been? Three months? Four? All I know is that I suck for leaving you guys. I know there are no excuses for what I did, but the past couple months have been rough. I fell into a rut where I literally wasn't doing anything productive in my life, and since this is my senior year and I need to be getting ready for college, that was probably one of the worst things for me to do. Even worse, I let all of you down. All of you who have stuck with me throughout this story, those who have favorited and subscribed to it, and especially those who have favorited and subscribed to me. Even more so to those who have actually reviewed this. I owe you guys everything.**

**And so I'm going to let you decide what happens from here. This is chapter six of what was going to be a ten chapter story. But I was hit with some inspiration while writing this chapter and if you all want, I could turn this into a 30+ chapter story. But it's up to you. Seriously, you guys tell me what you want. You have been so awesome and I've been so shitty that you guys get to decide what happens from here. Private message me or review this and tell me what you want and I promise that I will keep up with this story, whatever you all decide.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception, or all of Arthur in his deliciousness. **

Chapter Six

Ariadne woke up with a strangled gasp, momentarily reliving her crash into the pavement. She repressed a shudder. She would never be able to get used to the brief lapse of panic she went through each time she killed herself in a dream, worrying that one day she wouldn't wake up.

She started to get up, know she only had a few minutes, if that, to get out before Arthur and Eames woke up. Standing up, Ariadne went to grab her totem, but found that her left hand was caught in a somewhat compromising situation. She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. Arthur's right hand and her left hand were linked together. For a moment, she faltered.

_Maybe he does like me, _she thought.

Arthur and Eames began to stir.

_No,_ she thought. _I did it in my sleep_.

And with her resolve still strong, Ariadne wrenched her hand out of his grasp and ran out of the warehouse.

"Taxi!" Ariadne yelled. The cab pulled over, and she climbed in, trying and failing not to notice the missing warmth of her left hand.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Arthur opened his eyes, his vision bleary. _That_ had been an experience. He had died in many scenarios, but jumping into a crack in the earth was a new one. He had just kept falling and falling. For a minute, he wasn't sure he would ever reach the bottom.

Shaking his head, Arthur said up and looked at Eames.

"That was an…interesting way to die," Eames remarked.

"I agree with you there," Arthur replied, shaking his head.

Arthur glanced around the warehouse, his alarm growing when he didn't see Ariadne anywhere.

"She ran," Arthur groaned, rubbing his face in his hands.

"She's embarrassed, Arthur," Eames said, sounding exasperated. "Of course she ran. She's probably at her apartment. It's not like she has that many places to run to."

"Thanks, Eames!" Arthur yelled, running out of the warehouse door to his car.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne knew she only had a five minute lead on Arthur, if even that. She was out of the taxi before it had even stopped.

"I'll be down in two minutes. Don't leave!" Ariadne said, slamming the car door shut.

Racing up the stairs and into her apartment, she threw any and all clothes into her carry-on bag, grabbing only the necessary toiletries.

She opened the top drawer in her closet cabinet, using her fingertips as a guide until she felt the little latch near the back. Pressing down, a small chamber opened, and she pulled out the $3000 of cash hidden there for emergencies.

_This is a good use of the money_, she thought. The last thing she needed was Arthur following her. The whole point was to get away from him, not have him chase her across the globe.

Glancing around the apartment, Ariadne let out a sigh. Who knew when she would be back? Not for a while, she knew.

Taking one last look, Ariadne let the door close behind her with a soft _click_.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

His wheels squealing as he turned the corner sharply onto Ariadne's street, Arthur's heart began to pound with anticipation. Walking up the stairs to her door, Arthur hesitated before knocking soundly on her door.

No answer.

He knocked again. "I know you're embarrassed. But can't we just talk before you completely shut me out?" Arthur pleaded.

_No answer._

He began to pace. What now? He could very easily pick the lock, but Ariadne would be furious. Maybe slip a note under the door? He shook his head.

"She's not here, honey," a voice said, interrupting the internal war going on inside his head.

Arthur turned towards the speaking, his gaze resting on an elderly woman. His gaze turned questioning.

"You just missed her. Seemed to be in a hurry," the woman remarked, a small smile gracing her face.

"Did she happen to say where she was going, ma'am?" Arthur asked politely, though the voice inside his head was telling him to be anything but nice.

The woman shook her head no. "She had a suitcase, though," she added.

"Thank you, Mrs…" Arthur trailed off.

"Just call me Clair, dearie," Claire said.

"Thank you Clair," Arthur said graciously.

Walking away as fast as he could without seeming impolite, Arthur climbed into his car and raced off to where he knew Ariadne would be. He only hoped he could catch her in time.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

"Can't you go any faster?" Ariadne asked impatiently.

"It'll cost you extra," the driver grunted.

"Fine," she snapped, tossing a fifty onto his lap. "Now pick it up."

Five minutes later, thanks to the driver's speeding, Ariadne stood in the airport terminal, waiting to buy an airline ticket.

"Where would you like to go, miss?" the woman asked.

"What's the next plane leaving?" Ariadne asked.

"There is a plane leaving for Toledo in ten minutes. You'll have to hurry, though," the woman said with a worried glance.

"Thank you," Ariadne breathed, thanking God that she had been smart to only pack a carry on; this way she would save time and not have to check her baggage in.

Ten minutes later, Ariadne found herself sitting in an airplane, her nerves growing with every passing minute the flight didn't take off. Finally, _finally_, she heard the engines start.

"Attention, passengers. Please fasten your seatbelts. We will be taking off momentarily. Thank you."

Ariadne felt the place start to move and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. There was no way Arthur could catch her now.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Parking illegally, Arthur raced into the airport.

"When does your next flight take off?" Arthur asked as he finally reached the front of the line.

"There's a flight that leaves for Chicago in two minutes, but there are no seats left. Sir!" the woman called out as Arthur jogged away.

"Sir, you can't get on without a ticket," the steward stated.

"I just need to see if someone is on the plane. I really need to talk to her," Arthur said, his patience growing thin.

"I'm sorry, sir. The door is closed. No one may enter or leave the plane," the steward said.

To Arthur's dismay, the plane began to slowly move backward. Within the next minute, the plane was gone, leaving a distressed Arthur in its wake. There was one shred of hope, though. He had one piece to where she would be next.

Chicago.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: So I thought about posting this tomorrow just to see how many reviews I could get for my comeback chapter, but decided that wasn't really fair. So here ya go :)**

**If you all will go to my profile and vote on where you want this story to go, I can start writing the next couple of chapters. Until people start voting, though, I can't really do much. So once you read through this new chapter, please go to my profile and vote! I aim to please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception, or Arthur in his sexiness. Boo :(**

**Without further ado…**

Chapter Seven

"Chicago?" Eames voice rang out in disbelief over the phone. "Are you sure?"

"That's the last plane that took off. You and I know she wouldn't stick around the airport and take the risk of me finding her," Arthur said as he leaned back in his chair, the quiet chatter of the café momentarily distracting him.

"True. Any idea where she's planning on going from there?"

"She might go to Cobb since he's over there in the States, but I'm not sure. I'm in the airport security system to see if she bought a ticket for a connecting flight," Arthur stated, his fingers moving at a swift pace across the keyboard.

Eames snorted. "You've got to be kidding. There is no way she paid with a credit card. She knew that even if she managed to get on the plane without you catching her, you would hack her credit card summary to see where she was going."

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, knowing Eames was right when nothing came onto the computer screen to say otherwise.

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Arthur knew he needed to get some sleep since it was now three in the morning, but knowing that he would be unable to rest easily until he found Ariadne.

Letting another sigh escape him, Arthur said good-bye to Eames and dialed Cobb's number.

"Hello?" Cobb answered.

Arthur immediately noticed a difference in him. Gone was the guilt and pain that had once laced his voice. Now, in its place, there was a lightness to it.

"I need to talk to you," Arthur stated.

"Clearly," Cobb answered, amused. "What is it?"

"It's Ariadne."

There was a minute of silence. "What about her?" he finally asked.

"Have you talked to her lately? Maybe her mentioning coming out your way for a while?" Arthur asked, not being able to keep the jealous tone completely out of his voice.

"What? Cobb asked, sounding shocked. "Why would you think that?"

"She bought an airline ticket for Chicago, and I thought she might be heading your way," Arthur explained.

"Why would she be coming to me?" Cobb asked.

"You tell me," Arthur snapped.

There was more silence on Cobb's end before Arthur heard a small chuckle.

"You really are the jealous type. I thought Eames was kidding," Cobb exclaimed, chuckling again.

Arthur felt his temper rise, but bit his tongue. It was these types of emotional outbursts that caused the smallest of problems in this field of work. Cobb was a prime example of that.

Cobb began speaking again. "I haven't heard anything from her since the Fischer job, except for the occasional email. And that was weeks ago."

Another wave of fatigue pulsed through Arthur, but he promptly ignored it.

"Get some sleep, Arthur. You sound like you need it," said Cobb softly.

"Time spent sleeping is more time that Ariadne could be getting further and further away," Arthur snapped, losing his patience.

"You can't help her if you're dead on your feet. Besides, you don't have any leads," Cobb stated calmly. "The best thing you can do is get some sleep and be fully rested for you _and _her."

Arthur said nothing, knowing his colleague was right.

"I'll let you know if I hear anything," Cobb added.

As his fatigue grew stronger, Arthur finally caved.

"Thanks," he told Cobb, snapping his phone shut.

Gathering his things together, Arthur walked out to his car and drove home, a pensive expression never leaving his face.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Toledo was a beautiful city, nestled in the heart of Spain. The city was known for its intricate weaving of gold into jewelry, though with the tight budget she was on, Ariadne knew she didn't have any money to spare.

She liked it here, she decided. A quiet life wasn't quite what she had imagined as a young girl, but it was only temporary, and there were a million and one places for her to sketch to her heart's desire.

While her money wasn't rapidly depleting, Ariadne knew she would have to withdraw some money soon. She was comfortable for the next few days, she reasoned with herself. There was no need to worry about it right now.

What _was_ worrying her was a different matter entirely. _Him_. Though she had tried day in and day out for the past two weeks to get him out of her mind, nothing seemed to work. Not sketching, not reading, nothing. It's like he had taken up permanent resident in the back of her thoughts, and nothing was going to get him out.

Men were insufferable.

Ariadne was amazed he hadn't managed to find her yet. Keeping undetected was harder work than she originally thought. She couldn't use her credit card. She had had left her cell phone at home, choosing instead to buy a disposable one that she used only to check in with her parents every couple days. She even avoided going into stores, deciding to buy from vendors off the street instead. The less she was seen and heard, the better.

Still, while she was happy he hadn't come to drag her back home, Ariadne was a bit annoyed. Didn't he at least care enough about her, even as a friend, to worry about where she was?

Apparently not.

Little did she know that this was the calm before the storm.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

"Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. How have I not found her yet?" Arthur shouted, raking his hands through his hair.

Eames' amused look turned into one of shock at Arthur's uncharacteristic display of anger.

"She hasn't used her cell phone, so I can't track the signal. She hasn't used her credit card for anything, so I can't hack her credit card summary. And though I've scanned her picture into the security camera system for any recognition, _nothing_ has come up. It's like she's fallen off the face of the planet!" Arthur ranted, pacing around the room.

"She's either left her phone here or turned it off wherever she went. Either way, you can't track it. So there's no use worrying about that aspect. There is the fact, however, that she _will_ have to use her credit card sooner or later. She can't have had that much cash on hand," Eames reassured.

"You don't know that," Arthur snapped.

"Yes, actually, I do," Eames said. "She once told me that she only keeps a few thousand on hand for emergencies."

"Ok, Mr. Smartass. Explain how I haven't caught a glimpse of her on any camera once since this all started," Arthur said sharply.

Eames gave him a look of annoyance. "Please. Like you haven't already thought of this. But I'll explain it to you so you can feel better that you came up with it first."

Arthur glared at him.

"There are three scenarios. One: Ariadne went to a very secluded area that isn't technologically advanced, therefore, no camera would be able to see her simply because there aren't any," Eames stated.

"Please," Arthur interrupted, rolling his eyes. "She would be bored to tears."

"She wasn't thinking ahead, Arthur," Eames snapped. "All she could think about was getting away from you."

Arthur snapped his mouth shut, his eyes shooting daggers.

"Second," Eames continued, "She's been wearing a disguise. Yes, I know you think you would have spotted her," Eames, said, holding his hand up to silence Arthur, "but it's not that difficult to buy a hat and a pair of sunglasses."

Eames looked at him expectantly, waiting for Arthur to respond. Arthur said nothing.

"Third: You're looking in the wrong spot," Eames said.

"The last plane that took off was to Chicago. She has to be in Chicago, or somewhere near there," Arthur said, his tone a little desperate.

"Not necessarily. She arrived at the airport a good ten minutes ahead of you. Did you check to see if any other flights left right _before_ the Chicago flight?" Eames asked.

Arthur shot off to his computer, giving Eames the answer he needed.

For the next fifteen minutes, the warehouse was quiet, save the fast paced clicking of the keyboard.

"Shit," Arthur breathed.

"Where?" Eames asked, knowing he had been right.

"Toledo, Spain," Arthur replied, already getting ready.

**A/N: Like it? I hope so. In case you were wondering, the part about the gold-woven jewelry is true. I have a bracelet that I got from Toledo when I went there with my school a couple summers ago.**

**Please, _please_ go to my profile and vote on the poll. Where do you want me to go from here?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Well, look at me. I'm just gushing out chapters. Hope you all enjoy.**

**This chapter is dedicated to ByTheBeautifulSea, whose reviews never fail to cheer me up and give me more confidence in my writing. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception, or any of its brilliance.**

Chapter Eight

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Eames asked, watching Arthur as he packed his overnight bag, throwing various items into it without really looking.

"Yes," Arthur answered in a clipped tone. "It's been two and a half weeks. She's had more than enough time to get over her embarrassment. Besides, if she had just waited and let me talk to her instead of running like she did, she would know that I return her feelings. So yes. I am following her to Spain, and I am going to knock some sense into that beautiful, artistic head of hers."

Eames was quiet. The only noise that could be heard throughout the warehouse was the occasional rustle as Arthur packed. No more than two minutes had passed before Arthur declared he was finished.

"I have the credit card software up and running on the computer. If she uses her credit card like you think she will," Arthur said, ignoring the pointed look Eames gave him, "the location will come up on the screen. If it does happen, I'm going to need the information as soon as possible seeing as I'm going into Toledo with blind eyes. Can you do that?"

Eames rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I can handle it," he said dryly.

"Let's hope so," Arthur muttered as he walked out the door, completely missing the glare Eames shot at him.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Sitting idle on an airplane was not an easy thing for Arthur to do, but since the plane wasn't set to take off for another ten minutes, he decided to try and calm his frazzled nerves by planning on what to say to Ariadne if he found her. No, not if. When. _When_ he found her.

"_You shouldn't have run," he would say softly._

"_I was embarrassed," she would say, refusing to face him._

"_There was no need to be embarrassed because I feel the same way," he would say, trying to get her to face him, succeeding slightly when her body angle changed from away from him to towards him, though she still wouldn't look at him._

"_Really?" she would ask, her breath catching in her throat._

_His answer would be to kiss her. His lips would cover hers, smothering them in a fierce kiss that he would never forget. Her lips would be velvet soft, they would—_

Arthur quickly opened his eyes. The only thing that had done was increase his heart rate and blood pressure. If a fantasy kiss made his blood boil, he could only imagine what a real kiss would do.

Arthur was relieved when the plane took off.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne was sweating bullets. She had been standing in front of the ATM for the past ten minutes, putting off the cash withdrawal she desperately needed, but knowing she had to. With only $100 left, it wouldn't last her much longer. Perhaps a day. Maybe two. Hopefully since her hotel was a couple blocks away from the ATM, he wouldn't be able to find her.

Who was she kidding? She had nothing to worry about. Clearly Arthur didn't care about her, or he would have found her by now.

She knew she was being unfair. _She_ was the one who had run. _She _was the one who had stayed hidden. But a part of her felt that if Arthur had wanted to find her _that badly_, he would have done it by now.

She sighed again, softly, and put the withdrawn cash in her purse, walking to her apartment to pack her things.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Arthur flipped his phone shut after checking his messages for the hundredth time. Still no word from Eames.

He had been driving for hours, not realizing just how massive Toledo was, and checking all the hotels and apartments for a room under Ariadne's name. There was the possibility that she had checked in with a fake alibi, but fortunately for Arthur, she had left her fake passport and identification in her desk (not that he went through her desk, of course). So he was fairly certain the room would come up with her name.

It was nearing sunset when Eames finally contacted him.

"She withdrew cash from an ATM on the street Olias del Rey. Head west from the airport in Toledo and you'll get there in about twenty minutes," Eames said.

Arthur mentally groaned. Of course. He had gone east from the airport. The street was a good two hours away from where he was, according to his map.

"Thanks, Eames," Arthur said, snapping his phone closed.

Leaning back in his seat, Arthur tried to get his body to relax and pressed his foot down on the gas.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne looked around, checking to make sure everything was packed. She walked out onto her balcony, breathing in the sweet smell of the orange trees surrounding the apartment building complex and watching the sun as it slowly started to sink.

Setting up her easel, Ariadne let her mind go blank as the pinks, reds, and oranges began to blur together on the canvas, almost perfectly portraying the sight in front of her.

Putting her paint down on the table, Ariadne stood up and stretched as the last of the sun sank under the horizon. Leaving the painting out to dry, she slipped into her tank-top and sweats and crawled under the covers, keeping the window open for the occasional breeze that fluttered throughout the room.

Snuggling deeper under the covers, Ariadne fell into deep sleep mere minutes later, too immersed in sleep to notice the soft _click_ of her door handle turning.

A/N: So, this is the last chapter I have before I decide where to go with this story. Based off the poll so far, I'll be making this story much longer. Which I'm really excited about because I have tons of ideas!

Reviews are love, my faithful readers! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: 65 reviews for only 8 chapters? You guys are amazing.

This chapter is dedicated to Kats02980416, who has gone through and reviewed each chapter thus far. You rock my world!

Disclaimer: Still no rights to Arthur. Damn.

Chapter Nine:

Ariadne opened her eyes to sunlight streaming through the open window. She sleepily looked around the room before closing her eyes again. She didn't want to get up. Because getting up meant leaving. Leaving meant going home. And going home meant facing Arthur. And she _really_ didn't want to do that. So she lay in bed, putting off what she knew she would have to do eventually. And so after lounging in bed for twenty minutes, Ariadne got up and reached for her totem like she did every morning.

Except it wasn't there.

Ariadne had never had any trouble discerning dreams from reality. She was in this field for one reason and one reason only: the creativity. She could create something from nothing, pulling buildings out of thin air, something that wasn't possible in the real world.

She walked onto the balcony, picturing the Eiffel Tower clearly in her mind. With all her might, she tried to put that image on the ground in front of her. Nothing. So she wasn't dreaming.

Despite the fact that she now knew she wasn't dreaming, Ariadne was still uncomfortable without the presence of her totem nearby. And so she began looking.

She looked at the empty spot on the bedside table, knowing without a doubt it had been there last night. Not there.

She checked under the bed, thinking she might have knocked it over in her sleep. Not there.

For the next thirty minutes, Ariadne combed through every square inch of her room.

_Not there._

Beginning to feel frantic, she began a second look around the room.

"Looking for this?" a voice asked.

Ariadne froze, dropping the shirt she had in her hand.

She stood from where she had been kneeling and turned on the spot. While she had recognized the voice the instant she heard it, her heart still leapt into her throat, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Peter Browning.

He stood in the bedroom doorway, leaning casually against the door frame, her totem in his hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, catching her before she could get her phone out of her back pocket. She mentally swore.

"Besides," he continued, "I think the person you were going to call has already joined us." He gestured into the living room.

Ariadne slowly walked through the threshold, sidestepping to get as far away from Browning as she could, and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

Arthur was sitting on the couch, his feet bound and his arms behind his back, which Ariadne guessed were also tied together. A gag was tied over his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Two men stood by the door on each side, stopping anyone from entering or leaving. Relief flooded over Arthur's face when he saw Ariadne.

"What do you want?" she snapped, refusing to show him any fear, but already knowing the answer to her question.

"Don't play dumb, little girl," Browning said sharply. "I know what you did. What you all did. And you're to fix it."

Ariadne stayed quiet. She didn't deny it.

"How? How do you know?" she asked quietly.

"Something like this doesn't just happen," he explained, glaring at her. "Once I realized what had happened, I had extractors go into Fischer's mind and pull the memories of the dream. In doing so, they recognized Cobb."

She was starting to get angry. "And how exactly do you think we can 'fix' it?" Ariadne asked.

"Expulsion," Browning said simply.

Arthur's eyes, she noticed, grew wide by a fraction, but otherwise showed no signs of a reaction. Expulsion? What in the world was that? Ariadne voiced her thoughts.

"Expulsion, my dear," Browning started, "is similar to extraction in the sense that you are taking the information from someone's mind. Expulsion though, gets rid of the idea completely from the subject's mind."

Ariadne shot a questioning look to Arthur. He gave a minute shake of his head and she looked back at Browning.

"You already know where this is going," Browning stated. "You and your team planted the idea in my nephew's mind to break up his father's corporation. Now you're going to expel it."

Arthur began to speak, but all that came out was a strangled noise.

"I've never heard anything about this," Ariadne said coldly. "Let him talk."

Browning didn't say anything for a while. Eventually, he gave a stiff nod to one of the guards. The guard untied the gag from Arthur's mouth and Arthur immediately began to speak.

"Are you crazy? Expulsion is only a myth. Even if it was possible, which it isn't, the idea is already too deeply ingrained in his mind. If you remove it now, you'll be destroying that part of his mind," Arthur stated hotly.

"You're destroying me!" Browning roared. "Forty years I've put into this company, and it's all about to be ruined because of you!"

The guard took this as his cue to put the gag back on Arthur.

"You will do this job," Browning said in a deadly voice.

"And if I refuse?" Ariadne snapped.

"Then I'll kill him," Browning replied, holding a gun to Arthur's head.

Ariadne stopped breathing.

"When the extractors were pulling the memories from Fischer's mind, they also happened to stumble across your little kiss with the point man here. To tell you the truth, I really don't know what you see in him," Browning said, chuckling humorlessly.

Ariadne hadn't moved since Browning had pulled the gun out. She looked Arthur in the eye. His eyes were pleading with her, telling her not to fall for Browning's bait.

But she couldn't lose Arthur. Not after he had just found her again. Not when she was slowly starting to fall in love with him.

"Too late," Browning said, pulling the trigger.

The sound of the gun firing echoed off the walls. Ariadne tried to scream, but was too occupied with the sight in front of her.

Blood. Blood was everywhere. On the couch. On the walls. On her. On Arthur.

No, no, no. He couldn't be gone.

Arthur, who had taken her under his wing since day one. Arthur, whose smile made her melt. Arthur, who had always encouraged her to go above and beyond. And as she stared into his lifeless eyes, Ariadne knew this wasn't just a bad dream.

This was a nightmare.

A/N: Didn't see that one coming, did you? Review and tell me what you think! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I know, I know! I haven't updated since Thursday. But my defense, it's been a really busy weekend. And just because I haven't updated in a couple days does not mean I'm going on a hiatus again. I promise not to abandon you guys again. Swear!**

**By the way, did you guys hear that Inception is up for Best Picture at the Oscar's, but Christopher Nolan isn't up for Best Director? Are you serious? What the hell is up with that?**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Inception. **

Ariadne felt hollow. Though the sight in front of her was gruesome, she couldn't bring herself to look away. Arthur couldn't be gone. He just couldn't.

"You know," Browning started conversationally, "I was reading your profile."

He had a profile on her. She wasn't surprised.

"And I came across an interesting detail about you," Browning continued, tossing her totem between his hands. "You're only in this business for the creativity. Not for the money, which I'm guessing people pay you a _lot_ of when you get the job done."

Ariadne didn't grace him with a response, still refusing to look at him.

"This isn't real," Browning stated.

Ariadne jerked her head up, her heart beat quickening, not daring to have any hope.

"You're in a dream, under a sedative. You're safe and sound. For now," he added darkly.

"What do you want?" she asked, not bothering to hide how scared she was. Browning had already seen how she reacted to Arthur's death. She couldn't fake being brave now.

"What I said before. Expulsion."

"And I told you before: I've never heard of it before, let alone done it," Ariadne snapped, her voice hard.

"You will do this," Browning said, repeating his threat from earlier.

"Or what?" Ariadne challenged.

"When I was reading your file," Browning said, ignoring Ariadne, "I came across another detail. You already know what it is, as do I," he said, gesturing to Arthur's dead body in front of her. "You love him. That's a very powerful weapon to have against you."

Ariadne glared at him, wondering where on earth Browning was going with all of this.

"This dream will end in exactly…one minute," Browning calculated, looking at his watch. "When you wake up, you will either be awake or in a dream. However, you won't know. And since I have this," Browning added, holding up her totem, "you won't be able to check."

"If this is a dream, why can't I change anything?" Ariadne asked.

"The sedation," Browning smirked. "Since you're under sedation, only I can control the dream. Each time Arthur shows up, and each time I kill him, you won't know if it's your projection or the real Arthur," Browning said with a cynical smile.

Ariadne tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. How could anyone be so cruel?

Ariadne looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Please don't do this," she begged.

"You know how to make it end," Browning said, his voice fading.

The dream dissolved.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Arthur drove slowly up the street Olias del Rey, eyes darting back and forth, desperate for a sign of a hotel or apartment. His eyes landed on an ATM. The ATM Ariadne had been at just mere hours ago. His heart beat picked up at the mere thought.

Shaking his head in an attempt to concentrate, Arthur reached the end of the street. No hotels or apartments. Of course.

Turning on the next corner, Arthur went down the next block, then the next, his relief at finding the ATM slowly turning into panic when no hotels or apartments were seen.

His eyes soon landed on an apartment complex sign. Sighing in relief, he swiftly parked the car and hurried into the building. There weren't many people around, seeing as it was fifteen minutes past ten. The manager of the building was sitting behind the front desk, idly flipping through a magazine. He quickly sat up and put the magazine away when he saw Arthur walking towards him.

"Te hablas English?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," the man answered, his accent thick. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for Ariadne Johnson. She left her bag at my place earlier today," Arthur said smiling, the lie easily passing through his lips as he held up his overnight bag.

"Yes, sir," the man replied. "Let me see what room she is in."

The typing on the keyboard seemed loud in the quiet lobby. Arthur tapped his fingers on the counter, his heart beginning to pound in anticipation.

"Room 528," the clerk said. "Fifth floor."

Arthur, who had been gathering his things, froze. Room 528? That was no coincidence. He raced up the stairs, figuring they would be faster than the elevator.

He arrived in front of Room 528, his heart beating not in anticipation, but in fear.

The door was open.

Barely, but enough to where Arthur, whose job it was to notice small details, would.

Muscles tensed, Arthur quietly pushed open the door just enough to where he could slip in, his gun out, and cringed when the door creaked.

It was dark. Not just night dark. The black dark, which had an eerie glow to it, as the window was open and moonlight was pouring into the room. A light breeze swept through the room, fluttering the curtains. An unnerving feel settled in the room.

A painting sat on an easel on the balcony. Arthur touched his finger to the edge of it. Still wet.

He made his way into the bedroom, gun still raised, though he was fairly certain no one else was in the apartment.

Clothes sat neatly folded in an open suitcase, along with toiletries, shoes, and of course, numerous scarves. The bed looked rumpled, like someone had tossed and turned continuously. Arthur ran his hands along the sheets, noticing that they were still warm.

Room 528. It was no coincidence.

The door had been open, clearly broken into.

Ariadne was gone, as was her totem, Arthur realized.

Something was very wrong.

A/N: Like I would kill Arthur. Geez.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: I know, I know. It's been a while. But I'm preparing for my college audition, and my pain medication isn't helping my arthritis or fibromyalgia. I just feel like crap. And this chapter was a freaking bitch to write. So let me give you my plan: I'm not going to update for about a month. I have some vague ideas on where this is going, but I need more time to plan without having the pressure of needing to update something for you guys every week. You guys don't give me pressure, I do. And I feel really guilty that I haven't updated in a while. So that's my plan, and hopefully around the beginning of April, I'll start giving weekly updates. So this is the last chapter until then. Enjoy, my faithful readers!

Chapter Eleven:

Arthur shut the apartment door, knowing he could pick the lock should he need to get back inside. He quickly made his way back down the stairs to the lobby's front desk.

"Do you have video cameras?" Arthur asked smoothly.

"Si, senor," the clerk replied. "But I can't let you watch them."

Arthur slid five hundred Euros across the counter, knowing no words were needed. The clerk glanced to his left and to his right before taking the money. "Come with me."

Arthur followed the clerk behind the desk, down the employee hallway, and into a side room. Twenty-four television screens lay on the wall before them, with hundreds to multi-color buttons on the desk below the screens.

"Has a group of men come in at any time tonight?" Arthur questioned, turning to the clerk.

The man turned thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. "But four men have come in, maybe thirty minutes apart, and haven't come down. I just assumed they were staying with their girlfriends," he said, shrugging.

"Why are you telling me this?" Arthur inquired.

"Something just gave me a weird feeling about them. They were all in suits. Who does that just to see their girlfriends? Unless they were wanting to get lucky…"

"Is there anything useful you can tell me?" Arthur snapped, impatience leaking into his voice. "Any description that could help me?"

"Well, the last man that came in had a silver briefcase, though I don't know if that helps," the clerk said quickly, sensing Arthur's tone.

Arthur froze. "What did he look like?"

Sensing the change in him, the clerk continued. "Silver hair, big nose. Just smiled when I asked him if I could help him get a room."

"What time?" Arthur asked, now gripping the man's forearm.

"I don't know! Eight, maybe eight-thirty?"

"Find it," Arthur demanded, point to the screens.

The clerk immediately did so, finding the time on the right monitor. "I need to go. You're welcome to look as long as you need," he said, holding his hands up in surrender as he slowly backed out of the room.

Arthur didn't reply, too busy intently watching the screen. For the next hour, Arthur studied the screen, waiting for the man he was certain could make an appearance. When the time read eight-thirty, Arthur was beginning to lose hope. No one had come on the fifth floor since eight, and the rest had been of the same empty hallway, never changing, always staying the same. Something about that bothered Arthur. He forwarded the video to ten-twenty, when he would have been on the fifth floor.

He wasn't there.

Arthur groaned, mentally smacking himself on the forehead. It was a recording of the empty hallway. Now that he knew this was a recording, he just barely caught the turn of a door handle before it started over. Within ten seconds, the door handle hardly turned before starting again.

Arthur ran out of the room, down the hall, and back into the lobby before quickly exiting the building, ignoring the clerk yelling after him. He pulled out his phone and listened to it ring before a familiar British voice answered.

"Eames, we have a problem…"

A problem they had indeed. He knew exactly who had done this, and he also knew why.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

She opened her eyes, the bright sunlight causing her to quickly shut them again. Unintentionally, Ariadne tensed her body, not bothering to hope that all of it had, in fact, been a dream. Hoping was futile in these situations. It was best not to hope at all.

Ariadne shot out of bed when she heard the soft _click_ of a door handle turning. She glanced around, mentally groaning when she realized she didn't have any kind of weapon. _I should have bought a gun, _she thought. Tip-toeing to the doorway, she hid behind the door, hoping to at least catch the intruder by surprise.

"Ariadne?" a voice called softly.

A second too late, for she was already placing a swift kick into his stomach. Arthur doubled over on the ground, gasping for air.

"Oh my god!" Ariadne gasped. "I'm so sorry!" She bent down on the ground, attempting to help him get his breath back.

"Why in the world did you kick me?" Arthur asked, getting up.

"I thought you were an intruder," Ariadne said, not bothering to take into account his confused look before running into his arms.

He didn't reply, simply wrapping his arms tighter around her. "I have to admit, I'm surprised you're acting like this. Considering what happened."

"Oh," Ariadne mumbled, backing out of his embrace, her face glowing bright red, but at the same time feeling relief. If this was a dream, and Browning was controlling it, Arthur would have no recollection of the embarrassing situation that had caused her to leave in the first place.

"May I ask what happened?" a voice asked.

Arthur immediately shielded Ariadne and pulled out his gun, all in a heartbeat.

"No," Arthur said pleasantly. "But I can tell you what _is_ going to happen."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you," Browning replied, sounding amused.

Arthur didn't waste any time. He pulled the trigger. Except, nothing happened. Just a soft click. When the gun didn't shoot, Arthur pulled the gun back towards him, examining it. As he did that, Browning took his shot.

This time, Ariadne did scream. Blood poured from the open wound on Arthur's shoulder. He sank to his knees, clutching his arm before hitting the floor. Ariadne dropped to the ground beside him. Blood seeped through her fingers as she pressed down on his shoulder, attempting to apply pressure to slow the flow of blood. It wasn't working. His breathing was getting labored, his breaths becoming shallower until his chest finally stopped moving.

"No," Ariadne cried, tears running down her face. "Come on, Arthur!"

Browning chuckled behind her, and Ariadne saw red spots, her rage becoming bigger and bigger by the second. She whirled around, preparing to attack him, but the dream dissolved before she even took her first step.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne sat up from her bed, her body coated in a sheen sweat. Trembles shook her body until her body was shaking so hard she couldn't get up.

"Ariadne?" Arthur asked, rushing over to the side of her bed.

Ariadne felt relief flow through her body at the realization that he was still alive, but soon terror coursed through her veins when she realized what was about to happen.

"Get out. Now," she snapped, all but pushing Arthur out of her room and into the kitchen, inching closer and closer to the front door. The only reason she had gotten this far, she knew, was because she had caught him by surprise. The situation quickly turned.

"Get out? I just found you after three weeks. I'm not leaving," he said, taking hold of her wrists and stopping her efforts.

"You have to!" she screeched, her voice hysterical as she pounded her fists against his chest.

"What is wrong with you?" Arthur asked, worry and confusing filling his voice.

Ariadne just shook her head.

"You know, getting him to leave won't save him," Browning said, coming into the living room and sitting on the couch, twirling a gun between his fingers.

"How is he here?" Ariadne cried, cutting off an angry retort from Arthur. "If you control all of this, the last dream had the real Arthur in it. Only he knew about the situation that happened the last time we saw each other, and you shot him."

"That's the brilliance of the sedative, darling. You don't know whether he's real, your projection, or my projection. For all you know, he could be dead. But you keep projecting him, or I keep projecting him. And it keeps this fun game lasting just a bit longer," Browning replied.

Ariadne stilled. "And why would I agree to your plan if he's dead?"

"Because he might still be alive. And that's all I need for you to say yes."

Ariadne grew pale. He was right. If she said no, this nightmare continued. And she didn't know how many more of these she could last through, especially not knowing whether Arthur was really alive. On the other hand, agreeing to expulsion would probably be the biggest mistake of her life. It was a lose-lose situation, and Ariadne was backed into a corner.

_**BANG!**_

The sound of a gun shooting pulled her out of her thoughts. She squeezed her eyes shut, a shriek coming from her mouth. She refused to open her eyes, shutting them even tighter, so tight that colored spots danced before her.

_Don't,_ she repeated in her head. _Don't look. You already know what happened, and what you'll see. __**Don't look.**_

"It's not real," she whispered to herself.

"How do you know?" Browning taunted.

She didn't. She didn't know if that was the real Arthur or a projection of him, with blood pouring out of his chest. And that was what scared her the most. With every dream, nightmare, reality that she went to, the situations just got worse. And each time they happened, she pulled a little more into herself. Soon there wouldn't be anything left but a hard shell.

The dream dissolved.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne got out of bed, moving slowly into the kitchen. She flinched when she heard her apartment door open, not even bothering to see who it was. It was either Arthur or Browning, and to be honest, she couldn't care less. She didn't care that it could be the real Arthur, that he had finally found her and was going to bring her home. None of it mattered anymore.

"Ariadne?" Arthur questioned, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Ariadne ducked under his arm, cowering when he tried to get closer.

"Don't," she warned, holding her hands up in front of her, her breaths coming in short gasps. "Don't come any closer."

"What? Why?" Arthur asked, though he stopped trying to get near her.

"Because she's learning," Browning replied for her. "Learning not to get close anymore, especially when she doesn't know if this is a dream or reality."

"Or a nightmare," she whispered, though neither man paid any attention.

"Of course she knows whether this is real or not," Arthur snapped, his eyes shifting from Ariadne's cowered figure to Browning's.

"No, I don't," Ariadne said quietly.

Both men turned to look at her, Arthur's normal detached mask replaced by surprise, and Browning's smile turning cold. If Ariadne wasn't feeling so helpless and defeated, she would have smacked the grin right off of his face.

"Just get it over with," Ariadne begged softly, turning away from them.

"Now, where's the fun if you're not watching?" Browning asked, a rumbling laugh emerging from his chest. Ariadne felt her body turning back towards them, unable to keep from watching the scene before her. Fists clenched and tears pouring down her face, Ariadne didn't make a sound when the gun was fired.

For all she knew, it would be too late. The Arthur lying on the floor could be the real one. But she held the last shred of hope tightly, praying that Arthur was still alive. "I'll do it," she said weakly. "I'll do it."

Some would say she was giving up. She would tell them that her heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces, close to being destroyed for good, and that this could be her last chance.

A/N: I made it twice as long to keep you going. Whoo!


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: I know, I know! It's been forever. Who would have thought that summer would be busier than my senior year? My mom decided to work me full time the summer, which SUCKS MAJORLY. Anyways, you are looking at a graduate of high school! Yay me! Well, not technically looking at, but…shut up. You know what I mean. I know you want me to update more often, but with a full-time job this summer, it'll be hard. I do what I can, but life just takes over sometimes. I owe all my faithful reviewers a big thank you, and a thank you to all of my subscribers. Every time I get an email saying I have a new subscriber, it makes my day. Thank you, again!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Inception, though I should, since I know almost every line of the movie.

Chapter Twelve

"You lasted longer than I expected. Can I ask you what kept you going?" Browning inquired, actually sounding curious.

Ariadne closed her eyes. She was so, so dizzy. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before she passed out. "I still had hope," she said, the words sounding weak even to her. "I wanted to believe that it had all been a nightmare. That none of it happened, that the most dramatic thing to have happened to me was Arthur finding out I liked him." Her attempt at a chuckle turned into a sob.

"Hope," he repeated, rolling his eyes and sitting on the sofa. "Hope is a futile effort in this line of work. There's reality, and then there are dreams. No gray areas, just black and white."

Ariadne just stared at him.

He continued. "This dream will end in a few minutes. We will wake up in reality, and you will begin the planning of the expulsion."

"I'm just an architect. How do you expect me to do this?" she snapped, her sudden anger giving her a newfound strength. She sat up and glared. "I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I can't tell the difference between dream and reality anymore. You have officially fucked up my mind."

Browning merely raised his eyebrows. "I'll give you your totem back. You will be provided a team to work with. Though the memories from my nephew have already been shown to the team members, you will take your memories and show the team how exactly you pulled the job off."

"My totem won't work if you've touched it. That's the whole point of it," Ariadne retorted, her voice haughty.

"Which is why I took it using a bag. Are you done?"

She didn't respond, only curling up into a ball on the floor. The last thing she remembered seeing was Arthur's blood on the carpet.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

The first thing Ariadne noticed when she woke up was that she was in a warehouse, similar to the one in Paris. Though they weren't near her, Ariadne could feel the gaze of each man on her as she sat up. Cheeks flaming, she tried to ignore them, but with each passing second, she could feel her grip on the chair getting tighter and tighter until her knuckles were completely white. A repeated tap on her shoulder finally got her attention, and when Ariadne turned around, a paper bag was thrust in front of her face and she hastily grabbed it, the mounds of pressure melting off of her shoulders as she held her totem. Without wasting another second, she put the bishop on the ground and flicked it. When it toppled to the floor, her entire being sagged with relief. She gazed around until her eyes met Browning's then raised her eyebrows in expectation.

"Gentlemen," he called, walking towards her. "This is Ariadne, your new architect. With her assistance, you will all destroy this absurd idea in my nephew's mind."

The group of men eyed her, their looks skeptical. Knowing her physical appearance wasn't doing much to help her, Ariadne stood from the lawn chair, crossed her arms, and returned each of their gazes defiantly until they looked away in embarrassment. Just wait until they saw what she could do, what she could create.

"In a couple of hours, all of you will enter a dream controlled by me, but filled with Ariadne's subconscious. In her subconscious, we will watch how she and her team managed to pull off the inception. By doing so, we will be able to backtrack their steps in order to pull off the complete opposite: expulsion. Report back here in three hours and be prepared to take notes," Browning ordered.

The circle of men dissipated, and Ariadne looked at Browning, irritation flashing through her eyes.

"Three hours? You want me to have the entire inception mapped in _three hours?_" she asked, incredulous.

"They don't call you the brightest architect for nothing. Start mapping your memories," Browning said, tossing a pen and a sketchpad into her lap. "Don't even think about leaving anything out. You know what will happen if I find out you left out a key memory," he said darkly, walking away.

Ariadne sighed and opened the sketchbook. It was going to be a long three hours.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

"Okay, everyone. Here's the plan: We will enter Ariadne's subconscious. Because we are viewing her memories, it will be her dream. However, I will be the one in charge of the dream, just in case she decides to try anything," Browning said, shooting Ariadne a dangerous grin. She glared at him, wondering if she could glare at him hard enough that he would catch on fire, like she had read in a book.

"Everyone grab a needle," Browning ordered.

Reluctantly, Ariadne took a needle. She surreptitiously glanced at the men around her. All of them looked so…serious. Granted, this whole project was a serious matter. But what had happened to the power, the freedom, that was supposed to come with the ability to create anything-to become God? Slightly shaking her head, Ariadne tried to block was she was about to do. When the waves of unconsciousness began to pull her under, she had one thought that drifted through her mind.

_I'm sorry, Arthur._

A/N: Whaddya think? :) Reviews are love!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Yay for a new chapter! I was kinda bummed at how little response the last chapter received, but I guess I deserve it for not updating in a couple months. So I hope you enjoy this chapter! A special shout out to **_**actressen**_**, who gave me my 100****th**** review! Seeing that totally made my day.**

**One question: Would you like me to respond to all of your reviews? If you want me to, let me know on your next reviews. I love talking to you guys, but if you'd rather not, let me know!**

**Oh, one last thing really quick. I already typed Chapter 14, so that means I just have to edit it before I get it up. Say "YAY JORDAN!"**

**Disclaimer: Inception, alas, does not belong to me :(**

Chapter Thirteen

Ariadne, plus the group of men, stood in the lobby of her college in Paris. An ache of wanting passed through her as she realized how badly she wanted to go back there, to go back to simpler times. When reality had been enough.

"Ariadne?" her professor Miles called her from the stairs. Her memory self walked over to where Miles and Cobb were standing. "I'd like you to meet Mr. Cobb."

She offers her hand to Cobb. "Pleased to meet you."

Ariadne watched herself turn to Cobb with curious eyes. "A work placement?"

Cobb smiled. "Not exactly."

As Ariadne observed from the sidelines, she was surprised at the amount of pain that she saw in Cobb's eyes. It was a wonder she hadn't noticed it sooner.

The lobby dissolved, only to be replaced by a rooftop. Ariadne hid a smile as she viewed herself growing irritated when neither of her mazes were good enough.

Shaking his head, Cobb sighed as he looked at her second maze. "You're going to have to do better than that if-" Her memory grabbed the notebook, defiant, and drew a more complicated maze. Cobb nodded his head in approval, and even though this was just a memory, Ariadne still felt a surge of pride go through her.

The scene changed to the café where Cobb had explained the dream state to her.

"So…how did we end up here?" Cobb asked.

Her memory self looked confused. _Not a good look on me,_ Ariadne decided. "Well, we just came from the, uh…"

"Think about it Ariadne," Cobb demanded. "How did you get here? Where are your right now?"

The group of men around Ariadne also looked confused. _Does this count as a dream within a dream?_ she wondered. The ground began to shake, and the buildings began to tremble in their spots.

"We're dreaming?" she gasped.

Ariadne wondered whether the debris from the explosion would hit the men beside her, but her hopes immediately plummeted when the concrete and bricks merely passed through them, almost as if they were ghosts. That didn't stop them from trying to run or protect themselves from it, though. Ariadne snickered.

Shards of glass flew through the air and into her face. Ariadne winced, even though this was just a memory. That glass had fucking _hurt._ Watching herself wake up next to Arthur made Ariadne slightly jealous. _Am I jealous of myself?_ The thought was ridiculous. Back in the second dream, that Ariadne controlled instead of Cobb, she was impressed with how much she had done for the first time. When the world started to fold itself in half, Ariadne watched in glee. It was just _so cool._ She noticed some of the men shift slightly away from her after witnessing that. Good. Her momentary excitement shifted to dread when she realized what was about to happen. Soon enough, Mal came at her with a knife that sliced through her abs.

The first thing she remembered when waking up from this dream was Arthur's eyes. They were a deep chocolate brown, which instantly soothed her. Brown was her favorite color. Most people didn't like it, but the color reminded her of melted chocolate.

She watched herself argue with Arthur that Cobb was messed up, that she wasn't going to share dreams with someone like that. "I'm not just going to open my mind to someone like that."

Her memory stalked across the room. _I look like an angry midget…_

"She'll be back," Cobb said.

Ariadne turned in surprise. She hadn't heard this before.

"I've never seen anyone pick it up so fast. One reality won't be enough for her now. When she comes back, get her building mazes," Cobb ordered Arthur.

Ariadne's eyebrows rose. He knew she would come back? Bastard.

The dream scene dissolved, the sunlight being the only sign that anything had changed. Arthur was sitting at his desk, his sweater pushed up to his elbows, working on the dream equipment . Even without looking at her memory self, she knew she looked sheepish. She saw Arthur turn at her not-so-subtle cough.

"Cobb said you'd be back," Arthur said, sounding just a bit smug.

"I tried not to come, but…" she trailed off.

"But there's nothing quite like it," Arthur finished for her, a small smile on his face.

"It's just…pure creation," she said.

The men on Browning's team looked surprised. Surprised enough to stop taking notes and glance at her with open looks of curiosity on their faces.

"What?" she asked, defensive.

None of the men said anything. Biting back a scathing remark, Ariadne put a mental block on her memories. The scene stopped changing, and she crossed her arms while giving the group a defiant look. "Until one of you decides to tell me what the hell you're looking at me like that for, we're not looking at any more memories."

More silence. Browning's jaw clenched, and he gave a short stiff nod to his right-hand man. The man stepped forward, Greg, if she remembered correctly, and offered her an explanation for their strange behavior. "You…you did it for the creation of the dream. To build something from nothing, and make buildings out of thin air. To people like us who just complete the job required for the paycheck, it's a new concept," Greg said.

Ariadne faltered. Out of all the replies that she had imagined as an explanation for their looks of utter stupidity, that had not been one of them.

"You really only did it for the creativity, the creation?" Greg asked quietly.

She cleared her throat. "Yes," she answered, just as quietly. "Yes, I did."

Another bout of silence fell upon the group, and before anyone tried to awkwardly break the tense silence, Ariadne took down her mental barrier and let the playing of her memories resume.

She saw herself learning the paradoxes, meeting Eames, and building all of the levels. She saw herself making a totem, invading Cobb's dreams, and that fateful day on the plane ride from Sydney to Los Angeles. Already, she noticed, the men's notebooks were half full. Boy, were they in for a surprise when they say the _actual_ job.

Ariadne and Browning's crowd appeared on the first level of the dream, the rain coming down around them as if they weren't there. Soon after, she saw the majority of the men jump when the train suddenly made an appearance. She covered her snort of laughter with a cough.

Level two. Face already burning with embarrassment, Ariadne braced herself for what very private memory these people were about to see.

"What's happening?" her memory asked.

"Cobb's drawing Fischer's attention to the strangeness of the dream, which is making his subconscious look for the dreamer," Arthur explained. "For me. Quick, give me a kiss."

She obliged. In her defense, Ariadne really had believed that kissing him might help the projections stop looking for him. Sly bastard.

"They're still looking at us," she observed.

"Yeah, it was worth a shot."

Even now, the memory still made her heart race and face flush. As suspected, Browning turned towards her with a smug smile on his face and a raised eyebrow. She ignored him, but felt her face grow warmer under his gaze.

And on and on and on it went. The men furiously scribbled in their notebooks, and she wondered if they had figured out _how exactly_ they were going to take the notebooks with them out of the dream state. Idiots. It wasn't until the third level that she stopped the memories, this time by Browning's voice.

"How did you know?" he demanded.

"How did I know what?" she snapped. She was a damned good architect, but she couldn't understand his cryptic wording, despite the face that they were in her dreams, and she was the one controlling everything.

"That Fischer would be down there?" No one needed to specify where exactly 'down there' was.

Ariadne faltered again. _What is it with these guys and their odd questions?_ "If you think about it," she said, emphasizing the word 'think' and ignoring the glower he sent her way, "that's the only place he could go. It's not like he was going to wake up. You saw the amount of dosage of sedation we were all under." Based off of Browning's red face, he was less than satisfied with her answer, but at this point, she really could care less.

Finally, _finally,_ she was able to stop. They woke up, and Ariadne noticed with a dark satisfaction that the men were having to write a mile a minute to try and remember everything they had written and seen while in the dream state. Unfortunately for her, her victory didn't last long when the men began bombarding her with questions.

After two hours, she had had enough. "Can I please go to sleep?" she pleaded, not bothered in the least that she was begging. She was so, so tired.

Browning nodded. One of the men stepped forward and motioned for her to follow. She trekked down a hallway until he gestured into a room off to the side. Ariadne gratefully sank into the mattress, noticing how a lock clicked once the door had shut.

She really was a prisoner.

**A/N: I'm hitting a really low point in my life right now, so waking up to a billion reviews would really raise my spirits. I love love love all of my subscribers and those who have favorited me. You all don't know how much that means to me. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Yay! Arthur's back! We haven't seen him for a while. I know the timeline is a little weird, seeing as we're going backwards for the first of Arthur's point of view, but it'll even out by the end of the chapter. I loved all of your reviews for my last chapter. I don't think you guys realize how much they boost a writer's confidence. Good news: Chapter 15 or 16, I can't remember which, is freaking long. Which means a nice, juicy chapter is headed your way soon. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I think you guys have realized by now that I like shorter chapters. Thanks again for the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Arthur, his melted chocolate eyes, and his fellow crew, do not belong to me, sadly.**

Chapter 14

Part Two

_Arthur's POV_

Arthur's mind was reeling. Browning had done this, he was sure. The thing was, that did he want with Ariadne? Gifted as she was, she didn't have what Browning wanted. Information about the inception job. Information that she _wouldn't have._ But Browning would have know that. So why _her?_

The drive back to his hotel was short due to the speed with which he was driving and how preoccupied his mind was. Again and again he asked himself: _why her? _Contemplating the question, Arthur walked into the hotel lobby and up the stairs to his floor. The answer hit him just as he was about to open his door. It wasn't her they needed. Granted, Browning did need someone to recreate the inception job, which Arthur was sure he was doing; recreating the scene to expel the idea. But she wasn't the one they needed. No, she was merely bait. _It was him._

His gun was outstretched when he opened the door. As he expected, Browning sat before him at the table in the small kitchen. Six men immediately had their guns pointed at Arthur, but he refused to waver.

"You know why I'm here," Browning stated.

"You kidnapped her," Arthur growled, restraining himself from lunging at him.

Browning stayed quiet. His silence gave Arthur the answer he needed.

"Put the gun down," Browning ordered. Arthur didn't move from his stance. "Put it down, or she dies."

Slowly, Arthur lowered his position and threw the gun on the floor. One of the men quickly seized it. Two more men came forward to stand behind Arthur.

"I don't need to tell you to remain quiet," Browning said dangerously, walking out of the room and into the hallway. Arthur had no choice but to follow, if he had any chance to save her.

_Ariadne's POV_

She heard a noise behind her; the warehouse door had opened. While that was a rare occurrence, Ariadne ignored it, as she was too busy on a particular tricky bit of the second level maze.

"Ariadne," Browning called. "There's someone here to see you."

"Whoever it is, I doubt I want to see them," she snapped, still working on the maze. Browning chuckled behind her. She spun on her heel with a snappy retort, but when she saw whom the 'someone' was, the insult died on her lips. Arthur, in all of his glory, was on his knees before her with his hands tied behind his back, and two bodyguards flanking him. She could see the relief in his eyes at seeing her, but the feeling was not reciprocated. The sketchpad she had in her hand dropped to the floor, but she hardly noticed. She turned back around so fast that the room spun and dug the palms of her hands into her eyes, as if doing that could stave off the river of emotions threatening to over power her.

_Anguish._

Never had she felt such anguish, such pain as she did in that very moment. Tremors wracked through her body, and her hands shook as her mind began to replay the many deaths of the man kneeling before her. Ariadne's breaths came in shuddering gasps. Slowly, _slowly, _she counted down from fifty, willing her heartbeat to _slow down._

When her mental countdown had ended, she was a great deal calmer. With a will she did not know she possessed, Ariadne turned back to face the men, who were now all watching her with mixed expressions apprehension and confusion. All but Browning, who just looked amused. Before she could address Browning, the question that she had refused to acknowledge earlier flitted to the front of her mind. What the _hell_ was Arthur doing here?

"Get him out," Ariadne demanded in an even voice, ignoring the flash of hurt and confusion in Arthur's otherwise determined eyes.

Browning merely raised an eyebrow at her tone. She refused to back down, though, and continued to glare at him with her arms crossed against her chest. "Why would I do that? He's such good company," he inquired when the silence had stretched on for what felt like hours.

"Because he's a distraction," she challenged. "I can't focus on the job with him here, which is exactly what you need from me."

There was another moment of silence before he spoke again. "Very well," he replied, shrugging. The bodyguards hoisted Arthur up from the floor and directed him towards the hallway opposite of hers. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her skull, but she refused to look at him. Relief washed over her when she heard his door being locked, and with a newfound determination, she turned back towards the maze that would destroy Fischer's mind.

_Arthur's POV_

As soon as the door clicked shut, the men behind Arthur began to release the rope around his wrists and arms.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Arthur demanded to Browning.

"I broke her. Her spirit, to be more specific," Browning replied, idly looking at his fingernails. "I had to get her to work for me. No amount of money was going to work, I already knew. So rather than give her a choice, I forced her to."

"That still doesn't explain why she wouldn't look at me," Arthur spat.

"You know, she was a difficult one to find anything against. No family living, can live off as little as $500 a month or $5,000 a month; so money wouldn't bribe her. And then I realized. _You."_

"Me?" Arthur questioned sarcastically, keeping his expression neutral.

"You're her one weakness. I didn't realize how much of a weakness until I heard that projections of you had started popping up in her subconscious. Fortunately for me, instead of addressing her feelings, she ran. _You _are her weakness, Arthur. And because of that, you became her own nightmare," Browning said cryptically before motioning the guard to unlock the door and walking out.

**A/N: Sooooo? Good? Bad? Eh? REVIEW! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: You know I love you guys. But seeing that I have over 120 subscribers, and that I'm getting less than 10 reviews for each chapter, kinda bums me out. They take less than five minutes, guys, and it really helps the writer know what they're doing right or wrong. So please, PLEASE review.**

**On another note, Arthur's POV takes place right after they capture him. Ariadne's POV, on the other hand, takes place months after they've kidnapped Arthur. So that's to clear up any confusion.**

**I edited this chapter so many times it's not even funny. So hopefully you guys are happy with it!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine :(**

Chapter Fifteen

_Arthur's POV_

The minute Browning left the room, Arthur's strong and determined demeanor fell away. His shoulders sagged, and he dropped his head into his hands and sank into the bed. Though he refused to let Browning get to him, Arthur couldn't help but think about what he had last said. "_You are her weakness, Arthur. And because of that, you became her own nightmare."_

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He paced within the small confines of his room. Whatever it meant, that was what sparked Ariadne's reaction to seeing him. He was expecting surprise and relief, but instead he saw fear and panic in her eyes. Browning had done something to her, and he was going to find out what.

Already, a plan was forming in his mind.

_Ariadne's POV_

Work and sleep. Each and every day, those were the only things she did. The food Browning gave her at breakfast, lunch, and dinner grew cold at the corner of her desk. Ariadne could feel herself growing thinner, getting weaker. Purple shadows under her eyes gave Ariadne a haunted look; like she had seen too much of the cruelty of the world. Her ribs protruded from her chest, and the clothes provided for her soon became baggy. If someone were to look at her, they would see a thin frame hunched over a model of a maze, shoulders tensed as if they were holding the weight of the world.

Ariadne sometimes couldn't help but think that maybe if something were to happen to her, say over exhaustion, then the team wouldn't be able to pull off the expulsion. Would it be worth it? Sacrificing herself, her brilliant mind, and all of the small details of the inception job that Browning and his team didn't know or catch, so that this monstrosity of a job couldn't be pulled off? Of course, they were getting all of that information from Arthur now.

The warehouse door slamming shut snapped Ariadne out of her thoughts. Browning sauntered across the floor, followed by his usual bodyguards. "Alright, team," he yelled, clapping his hands together once to get their attention, "enough of the paper and pen aspect. Time to go into the field."

Many emotions ran through Ariadne. Terror, relief, stress. But not one of them was surprise. It had been four months since Browning had kidnapped her, and she had been working non-stop ever since. She was more than ready.

"We will be taking the sedative in order to travel three levels dep. However, at this point, we will not be practicing the expulsion. This will just be a test run of the levels and their mazes," he continued, sparing a glance at Ariadne.

She rolled her eyes. As if she wasn't already prepared for this job. As horrible as the circumstances were, Ariadne was proud of her work. The mazes were more elaborate and well thought out than the inception job. She could only hope her sleep and food deprivation wouldn't cause her to slip up at some point. _Not like they could catch any mistake I made,_ she thought, snorting out loud.

Browning stopped in the middle of his rant. "Something funny, Ariadne?" he asked.

"Not at all," she answered, smiling sweetly. "Just thinking of what _fun_ this will be."

The men broke up into their groups, and Browning made his way over to her. "You will control all of the dream layers. I wouldn't have it that way, but that's the way it has to be. Fortunately, my subconscious will also fill every layer. So not only will you be sent to limbo if you try anything funny, when I finally get you out, there will be hell to pay."

Her expression remained calm, collected. "I'm not scared of you, Browning. After everything you've done to me, you're the least of my worries." Arthur's bloodied body on the floor flashed in her mind, and she struggled to repress a shudder.

He didn't reply, only giving her a dangerous smile in response.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

_Only one layer under, and they're already this impressed,_ Ariadne thought, rolling her eyes as some of the men's jaws actually fell open.

She used the Penrose steps again, which blew their minds. Honestly, had they never the use of paradoxes in dreams? Off to the side, she had built a door. Within this room was one of Arthur's memories that he had shown her after the inception job. She gestured the men inside, and their eyes widened in fascination as they watched the memory.

"And that, gentlemen," she said, closing the door and watching it disintegrate into nothing, "is how you close a loop."

The second level contained another paradox. Ariadne wasn't sure of the name, but it certainly did come in handy when needed. The group of men stood clustered around her, all of them standing in the second floor lobby of a hotel. There were no walls, only a staircase that hit every other corner diagonally. She could sense the men's confusion and waited patiently for someone to ask. Ariadne examined her fingernails, feigning boredom, until one man finally stepped forward. Greg, the one who had stepped up last time.

"Uh…" he said, sounding meek, "how exactly is this supposed to help us?"

"Go to the opposite corner," she ordered him. Without hesitation, he walked over to the opposite corner and waited for further instructions. She was surprised at the speech with which he had obeyed. "Now, I want you to walk down the stairs." Greg looked at her like she was crazy, but complied. By the time he finished the flight of stairs, instead of being a floor down, he was again standing beside them.

"_That_," she emphasized, "is how it's going to help you. They only look like stairs, but in the end, they are their own loophole." At this point, even Browning looked impressed. Now it was time to pull out the big guns.

The third level consisted of all of her best material.

Both paradoxes featured in the earlier levels were included, though not too much as to tip the opposing side off, along with a paradox she had invented herself. After explaining the maze throughout the bottom level, Ariadne clapped her hands together to get the men's attention.

"I have one more paradox to show you all." She waved forward Greg, also gesturing Browning to step up. "Browning, if you will." Looking skeptical and suspicious, he walked until he was next to Greg.

"Now, I want you two to walk to the roof. It's only three floors." Not offering any more information, she crossed her arms and waited for them to start moving. Browning and Greg eventually began walking towards the door marked 'Stairs', and it wasn't long before they were coming out of the same door. Browning looked around in bewilderment before looking at her. Greg just looked confused. Raising an eyebrow, Ariadne allowed a smug smile to grace her face before turning away in satisfaction.

Oh, yeah. These men would be a piece of cake.

AxA AxA AxA AxA AxA

Ariadne sat on a lone bench while the men around her studied her paradoxes and maxes. Sighing, she let her mind wander. Arthur's face came to the front of her thoughts, and her chest tightened in response. This was her fault. If only she hadn't run like a scared child, they wouldn't be in this situation. But something tells her that this would have happened, regardless of her fleeing. Struggling to keep Arthur out of her thoughts, Ariadne absentmindedly watched as one of the men walked up the Penrose steps. Concentrating, she closed the loop, and before the guy realized what had happened, he ended up in a heap on the ground. She snickered.

Browning sat down next to her, oblivious to her little prank. Careful to keep her face expressionless, Ariadne kept her face forward. "So how exactly will this work?" Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him raise an eyebrow in question. Mentally rolling her eyes, she explained further. "You've given me the layouts and mazes for each layer. Don't think I haven't noticed they're exact replicas of the ones I made for the inception job, only including my new paradoxes and updates of the mazes. You hired me for a reason," she finished dryly.

"Do not overestimate yourself or your abilities. It can get you in a lot of trouble." She scoffed, but otherwise held her tongue. When he was satisfied she wasn't going to retort, he continued. "We need Fischer's mind to recreate the inception job. Obviously, your paradoxes and mazes are for restraining his subconscious. If we can get his mind to replay the inception, we can find where the root of the idea took place in his mind."

Ariadne stood and paced, her mind racing a mile a minute as she digested his words. "I don't think you understand what you're doing. Yes, you want to expel this idea from Fischer's mind. But simply recreating the dream layers and expelling instead of incepting isn't going to work. It wasn't just level three that made the idea grow in his mind. Levels one and two set it up. Simply stepping in at the end of the job won't completely hinder the process. Because the development of the idea didn't take place in one level, there won't be a place where the root of the idea resides in his mind."

"But that's just the thing. We don't need to find the entire idea. We just need to find _the root._ If we find the root of the idea, we can destroy it," Browning explained.

"Along with everything now connected to that idea," Ariadne quietly added.

The silence stretched on. "That's your one weakness, you know," he said finally. She didn't bother to ask what he meant. He would explain soon enough. "Your feelings. Your feelings for Arthur are what got both you and him where you are now. Your feelings are that this job is wrong. You feel that it's wrong, therefore it is wrong. You're brilliant, kid, but that will keep you from being the best."

With that, he walked away, leaving her to contemplate his words until the world around her being to crumble into nothing.

**A/N: I told you this was longer! NOW REVIEW! That button down there, right there, YES! Click it, write some stuff that will make me check my email constantly, and write chapters more quickly. Ready, set….GO!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: After this, since it's only been a couple of days since my last update, I will do my best to update weekly. No promises, but I love the feedback I'm getting from you guys. So here's a special treat since you guys are so awesome!**

**Disclaimer: Arthur, and his gorgeous un-gelled, natural hair from being locked up by Browning, does not belong to me.**

Chapter Sixteen

She began to worry when she doesn't know what day it is. Some of the time, she could have sworn it should have been night while it was day, or vice versa. The only thing that kept her from worrying excessively was her totem. As long as she had her totem, and she knew she wasn't dreaming, she could continue on with what was now her life.

The only glimpses she ever saw of Arthur were when his door was opened to give given food. Most of the time she's too concentrated on her work, but during the rare moments when she has let her mind wander, Ariadne will hear the squeak of a door being opened and see him. His hair would be natural, the gel having long ago been washed out. His shirt sleeves would be rolled up to his elbows, and it was in those small moments that Ariadne was reminded of how utterly gorgeous he was. And then the door would slam shut, and her work would continue.

Was there any way out of this? She controlled all of the levels of the dream, for God's sake. Surely she could figure something out. The thought that had been worming at the back of her mind finally came forward.

_You could always send them to Limbo._

Ariadne sucked in a breath, and the air hissed through her clenched teeth. These men had kidnapped her, tortured her, and forced her to be responsible for the destruction of someone's mind. Yet she couldn't imagine deeming them a fate of staying in Limbo for eternity. She might hate, no _loathe_ these men, but she couldn't do it.

"_That's your one weakness, you know. Your feelings that this job is wrong. You feel that it's wrong, therefore it is wrong. You're brilliant, kid, but that will keep you from being the best."_

Browning's words ran through her mind on a loop. Just because she cared didn't mean she was weak. Running her hands through her hair, Ariadne pulled at the brown strands in frustration.

_Cobb performed inception on his own wife. Where's the ethic in that?_

The thought slammed into her, stopping her mid-breath. Her mentor, her teacher all throughout the work for the inception job, had said that an idea had to come from positive emotion, that it had to be natural. And he had the nerve to preach this to the team, all while knowing that he was the one ultimately responsible for his wife's death.

Maybe she really was weak.

_Arthur's POV_

It had been five months since Arthur had been taken. And he didn't just waste that time wondering if he would ever get out. He studied his guards with care, noticed who brought him food and at what time, and watched Ariadne in what little time his door was opened. Tonight, he would put all of his knowledge to the test.

Arthur waited until the guard outside his door fell asleep before standing up. When he heard the knock against the wall signaling that the guard was officially out, Arthur made his move. He knelt down in front of the door and pulled out the bobby pin he always had on him. Eames had teased him mercilessly for it, but in situations like this, the pin really came in handy. Sure enough, with a few wiggling turns later, the door unlocked.

A quick glance down the hallway showed that there were no other guards. He walked down the hall and stood in the shadows, watching for any movement in the main lobby of the building. All of the guards were asleep, he noticed. All according to plan. He wasn't the best point man in the business for nothing.

Being the only light in the room, Ariadne's desk lamp shone brightly throughout the lobby. Making no sound, Arthur crept over to her desk, making sure that the guards were still asleep and that he wouldn't be seen even if they woke up. Ariadne was asleep, her head on the desk. Her breaths came in short gasps, and sweat beaded her forehead. Slowly, he placed his hand over her mouth, putting his index finger over his lips, warning her to _be quiet_ when her eyes opened in panic.

Luckily for him, she seemed to understand that being silent was a necessity. Unfortunately, she reacted the same as she did when he first arrived.

"Get out of here," she whispered harshly, going back to work on her maze.

"What are you going to do? Wake the guards?" he asked, a grim smile on his face. "You may detest the sight of me, for reasons unknown to me, but I don't think you would do that."

"You'd be amazed at what I would do, Arthur," she said quietly, dangerously.

He stayed quiet, watching her work. Studying the maze over her shoulder, he wasn't surprised to see that the levels were mapped out almost exactly like the levels had been made for the inception job.

Couldn't Browning have at least _tried_ to be original?

For the next few weeks, he would sneak out every night and watch her work. She never talked, and neither did he. It wasn't a comfortable silence, but there was a whisper of trust in the air, though neither would admit to it, as if speaking would break that small bond between them.

After sneaking out night after night to see her, Arthur began to wonder if she would ever fully trust him again.

_Ariadne's POV_

The warehouse door slammed open, interrupting Ariadne's thoughts. In walked Browning, chatting and laughing with…_Eames_? Ariadne blinked in rapid succession, wondering if she was seeing things. Nope. Eames was still there. Another door opened, and Arthur was ushered into the main area. She glanced over at him, and was somewhat relieved to see that he looked as shocked as she did.

"Eames?" Ariadne gaped, still not believing he was there.

"The one and only," he replied, flashing a toothy grin.

"What-? How…?"

"Close your mouth, darling. You'll catch flies," he said.

Snapping her mouth shut, she looked over at Arthur. Sensing her plea, he asked the question she had been unable to force out of her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Arthur demanded.

"Didn't anyone tell you, Arthur?" Eames asked, adopting a mocking tone. "Ariadne?" When neither replied, he walked back to Browning and clapped him on the back.

"I work for him now."

**A/N: *GASP* No, it's not a joke. Are you mad yet? Are you at least happy to see Eames again...? Review and tell me how you feel! **


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: 8 months…has it really been that long since I updated? College has thrown away any and all semblance of a social life, and forced me to put away my writing binder for a few months. Though I didn't expect to be gone this long! I'm sorry :( I've missed this story, and I promise I'm not abandoning it. I will finish this story, even if it takes me forever. I can only hope you'll stay with me that long!**

Chapter Seventeen

She didn't understand why he kept coming. Late at night, when she was the only person still up working, _he_ came and sat. He never did anything. Never tried to talk to her, never tried to get her to talk, nothing. It was as if she was a spooked cat, and one small movement, or in this case, conversation, would scare her away.

She wasn't surprised that he had figured out the guard's schedule. He was, after all, Arthur, and she knew him well enough to know that his time spent in captivity wasn't spent by him doing nothing. But what was this accomplishing? He never spoke, and only sat close enough to her for her to know that he was there, never too close to where she felt uneasy. She felt his eyes on her sometimes, but strangely, not enough that she was ever uncomfortable. He never pressured her to talk. Ariadne wondered if he was just biding his time and waiting for an opportune moment or if he was simply waiting for her to start.

She went first.

One night, weeks after Arthur had shown up at the warehouse, Ariadne spoke.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly.

If he was surprised at her speaking, he didn't show it. "Sitting," he answered, in just as soft a voice.

Months ago, she would have rolled her eyes and smiled. Now, she just shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Why do you come out here every night, just to sit?"

"Because I don't want you to be alone," he replied, shrugging. He watched her face for any flicker of emotion, just barely catching the flash of anger that swept across her face before the emotionless mask was back in place.

She let out a weak laugh, but the sound was bitter. "I've been alone all my life. Why change things now?"

He was silent before answering her. "You have me, Ariadne," he said, his voice low.

"Yeah, and look at where that got me," she snapped, nearly forgetting to keep her voice down. She knew she had no right, but she was angry. He raised his eyebrow, and she instantly regretted what she had said. Looking away, her angry deflated as quickly as it had come. "Sorry," she said, her voice lifeless. "This is no one's fault but my own."

In an instant, he was out of his chair, his hands raised in a sign of surrender when he saw her guarded look. "This is _not_ your fault, Ariadne." When he saw her lower her eyes to the ground, he took a few cautious steps forward. When she didn't move, he took that as a good sign and continued forward. He stopped right in front of her and knelt to look up into her eyes. When she looked away, he put a hand gently on her cheek. "Hey," he whispered. "Look at me." Slowly, reluctantly, she met his eyes. Briefly, he noticed that he had never seen her look like this; so distraught, so…_broken._ "This is not your fault." When she started to shake her head, he put his other hand on her other cheek in order to keep her from moving. Against her will, her pulse started to race, and Ariadne knew she was going to have a panic attack if she didn't calm down. "It's not," he repeated, his whisper caressing her skin.

_I can't lose him again._

He didn't say anything else, just knelt there and held her cheeks. They sat, simply starting at one another. Slowly, her heart rate began to slow down. When his watch gave a small beep, she knew it was time for him to sneak back into his room. Arthur stood up, though his eyes never left hers. Leaning down, he gave her time to move away, but to his surprise, she remained in place. He placed a soft and gentle kiss on her forehead, leaving his lips there for a few moments. Her eyes fluttered closed, almost against her will. Her eyes remained closed when he walked away, and continued to stay closed until she heard the nearly inaudible _click_ of his door being shut.

She cupped her hand over her mouth to silence her cries, letting the tears run freely down her face. If only she could believe him.

**A/N: Don't worry, I'll have the Eames chapter up right after this. I know I don't deserve your reviews, but I really want to know what you think…**


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